


The Onset of Winter

by mergatrude



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, Gen, Off-screen Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-02
Updated: 2003-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:52:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mergatrude/pseuds/mergatrude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the "Hourglass" challenge at ds_flashfiction</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Onset of Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "Hourglass" challenge at ds_flashfiction

He pauses for a moment to lean on his shovel and wipe the sweat from his face, the strong wind barely ruffling his short, greying hair. Picking up the shovel he pats the earth firmly into a small mound. In the spring he might plant a tree there, but for now he marks the place with a wooden board onto which he has carved an image of his friend. Clouds are tearing across the sky and soon it will be covered in snow. Placing his hat on his head he ponders what to sing, finally settling on ‘Oh Canada’ as befits someone who served his country so faithfully. His voice remains strong till the last line, which wavers as he wipes his eyes. He whispers a final goodbye and turns back towards the cabin, trying not to think of a similar day five years ago.

Five years ago the wind-driven clouds tore across the sky, heralding the snow. It had not been a private parting in that cemetery filled with men and women in uniform, even the press. When the throng had finally melted away to just the family, the lieutenant clasped his shoulder kindly as he rejected the offer of a ride. Ray Vecchio hugged him warmly / _Stop beating yourself up about it, Benny. You did everything you could have_ / but the look in Stella Vecchio’s eyes said he should have done more. Barbara Kowalski silenced his latest round of apologies with a hug. / _You can’t stop fate, Benton. Even you are not a miracle worker._ / But maybe he should have been. Finally alone beside the grave of his friend and partner he softly sang ‘Oh Canada’ as befitted someone who had served that country as well as his own, and wiped his eyes as he whispered his final goodbye. He turned and left the graveside, signalling Diefenbaker to follow.

He sighs, and rouses himself from his seat by the fire, where he has been staring at the flames until his tea has grown cold. The dogs need to be fed and the harness needs work.


End file.
